


The Great Matt Quest

by elliceluella



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Minor Angst, basically our college avocados being adorable, college!Foggy, college!Matt, fluffy hugs, happy endings, minor fluff?, no not that kind sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliceluella/pseuds/elliceluella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Earnest Matt Murdock was one of those things that stripped Foggy of all emotional defenses and left him feeling raw. "I know, buddy. And just so you know, I really appreciated that. And what we have." Screw wrangling his emotions. Foggy went right in for a bear hug. </i>
</p>
<p>In which college!Matt learns to want things for himself, with the help of an extremely nurturing Foggy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Matt Quest

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/4501.html?thread=8954517#cmt8954517)

"...and then Mrs Cook nibbled me on the neck before slapping me right on my hiney."

"Mmm hmmm, yeah that's goo- wait, what?" Matt turned his head towards his best friend, eyebrows arched way above his rectangular glasses. He knew that Foggy, sloshed as he was, would never in a million years say anything remotely nice about the angry old lady who used to teach Foggy piano when he was a kid (he never got past Grade 1 and still had an aversion to the instrument). To hear him say that she basically got it on with him was just wrong. And very, very creepy. But mostly disgustingly warped. Matt shuddered internally. He most definitely did not need that mental image seared into his brain.

Foggy simply gave a hearty laugh and clapped Matt on the back. "Yeah, I figured you weren't listening. Well, not quite, anyway," Foggy said in between laughs.

"Sorry, Foggy. I- um, I was distracted." Matt mumbled while he fiddled with his empty glass that, not too long ago, was filled with beer. His face was slightly flushed, a small smile playing on his lips. The kind of smile that Foggy came to understand as his friend riding out the buzz from all the alcohol they'd imbibed at the bar a few minutes away from campus.

"Yeah? By what? Figuring out a way to ask that hot Greek girl out?" Foggy chuckled into his mug. Matt huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

"No. But yeah, she does sound hot. I was thinking about today's exam, actually. I know what's done is done and there's no use fretting over spilt milk and all that crap _and_ I may not be using that expression correctly, but um. I'm worried that several of the answers I gave back there weren't good enough. To get me into the second year," Matt said, his fidgety fingers never once at rest. They had started to pick at the coaster's frayed edges.

"You seriously need to ease up, you nerd," Foggy shook his head. "You're the smartest guy in almost all our classes, Matt! And, I've seen Marci stare daggers at you about fifteen times this month alone. Hey, if you're good enough to earn a Stahl Glare, you're good enough to pass the first year of law school with a gazillion gold stars, that's what I say," Foggy said. Matt's small smile widened just a little, but not little enough that it escaped Foggy's notice. Foggy beamed, proud that he was the one who put it there, small as it was.

Matt thought he could get used to this, really. Enjoying a night out with his extremely-to-the-point-of-being-abnormal good natured roommate, celebrating the end of exams with a couple of drinks and laughing at the torrent of jokes coming out of Foggy. It didn't matter that his jokes got lamer and lamer as the number of drinks he had increased, because Matt's own laughter got louder as well. Drunk Matt Murdock was a sight to behold. Giggly, smiley and slightly clingy, it was a different side to Matt that Foggy once suggested  he christen as "Mike: the fun twin".

This had been the most fun Matt had in since, well, since they start cracking down in preparation for their exams. "So, where to next, buddy? More libations, sliders, or both?" Foggy grinned and rubbed his hands together gleefully. Matt laughed and shook his head. "Ugh, I think I've had enough, Foggy. How 'bout a walk? I think I could use a walk."

"A walk it is! Onward!" Foggy hopped off his barstool as Matt unfolded his cane. After rooming with Foggy for almost a year, Matt knew just how kind and accommodating Foggy was and yet, he surprised himself when he released a quiet sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding when Foggy didn't voice his mock-displeasure or cajole him into going someplace else for another drink.

The crisp, cool air hit them just as they left the bar. Both guys took a deep breath and then breathed out, letting white, warm puffs of air out into the night. "Do you have any place specific in mind, or are we just gonna wing it and wander aimlessly?"

Matt shrugged. "Aimless wandering adventure awaits!" Foggy yelled as he pumped a fist into the air. Matt laughed and took hold of Foggy's elbow. They strolled in silence for a few minutes, save for Foggy's jaunty humming of some computer game tune.

"You know that's gonna get stuck in my head now, right?"

"Oh, I'm betting on it, buddy."

"Trust you to always look out for me."

"The mockery in your voice! Oh how it stings!" Foggy said, throwing in some fake righteous indignation for good comedic measure. Matt laughed again. _A ha, it worked_. Foggy smiled to himself.

"Ooh,  I spy with my little eye a park! Complete with empty benches! Shall we?"

"After you, good sir," Matt replied in an English accent and took a bow.

Foggy laughed. "If you keep that up I'm gonna have to sign you up for Downton Abbey auditions. And not one word about my vastly sophisticated and eclectic taste of TV." Matt chuckled.

"I wouldn't mind doing this more often," Matt sighed in content after they'd both sat.

"And you should," Foggy snorted. "You could stand to take a few more nights off, you know."

Matt cocked his head slightly towards Foggy's direction, silent. "I know," was all he said after a while. Foggy looked at him, but choose not to press the issue. If there was one thing he learned, it was that Matt Murdock, aesthetically pleasing nerdy charmer that he was (it never ceased to amaze Foggy how Matt could always turn his charm on and off just like that), was in fact a delicate flower-duckling-puppy. Sure, he was a super-human who could run on little to no sleep and remain the perfect A-student that he was, but deep down, Foggy knew this wounded handsome duck was going to need a shit ton of TLC. He could feel it in his bones since the first day they met. Foggy called it his Fogtuition. And he was going to (un-smotheringly) nurture the heck out of his roommate if it was the last thing he did.

"It's just," Matt continued, shaking Foggy from his reverie. "I just want to make my dad proud, Foggy. I don't think I've ever wanted anything more in my entire life. He wanted me to hit the books and to make something of myself, and I want to honor his wish. I have to."  Matt whispered those last three words, as if they were only meant for his own ears. Most of what Foggy knew about Jack Murdock was what Matt had told him. That he was a great fighter, a greater dad, and that he was murdered because he wanted to make his son proud by refusing to throw a fight. Foggy had no idea how to respond to what Matt just said, so he resorted to the most fool-proof plan his alcohol-addled mind could come up with: he nodded.  "I just nodded," he told Matt.

"For what it's worth though, your dad would have been hella proud of you. Heck, I'm not even related to you and I'm proud of you!" Apparently, Foggy had decided that the nod wasn't good enough. 

"Thanks, man" Matt appreciated the sentiment behind Foggy's words, even if he knew Foggy wasn't quite sure what to say before. He'd heard Foggy's breathing change a couple times before Foggy actually said anything after the nod.

Doing well in school to live up to Jack's dream for him was the first thing Matt thought he wanted most since his dad's death. Matt knew he needed to take more breaks and do more human stuff like "oh I don't know, sleep more?" was what Foggy always said, but every moment not spent burying his nose in his notes or doing anything academic felt like he was letting his dad down. And he didn't want to go through that again, not after Stick.

===

"You're dying to say something, aren't you?" Matt muttered. His head was rested on his folded arms at his desk, which was currently buried under piles of textbooks and crumpled loose papers. He was extremely frustrated at himself for not noticing when Foggy was outside the dorm. _What good are these heightened senses if they do jack shit when I need them to?_ He thought to himself.

"Um...I..." Foggy stammered. He could hear Foggy's heart hammering through his chest.

Foggy really didn't want to get into it right now because Matt was clearly agitated, but he couldn't bear to see his friend languishing in whatever _this_ was. He suspected that it could have been something of the grades variety, since that was the case most of the time when it came to Matt.

 Foggy's Punjabi class had ended early. He was planning to head back for a nap when he heard loud thuds coming from beyond the door. Loud, repeated thuds. _What the hell?_ He froze for a second outside his dorm before he opened the door. Slowly. Matt was seated at his cluttered desk, hitting his head on it while simultaneously punching the side of his head with his fist. Matt had a few quirks, sure, but this... Foggy had never seen anything like this from Matt before.

Matt froze when he realized Foggy was in the room, but it was too late. He knew Foggy had seen everything. Both guys remained where they were for a good minute or two, unsure of what to say or do. Foggy broke the silence first.

"Matt? Hey buddy, you OK? What's going on?"

Matt simply folded his arms and put his head on top on them. "I'm fine." Silence again. Foggy squirmed. And Matt felt a little bad for making him uncomfortable, but not bad enough to do anything about it.

"You're dying to say something, aren't you?"

"Um...I..." Foggy took a deep breath before he continued. "What's all this about? And please don't say 'nothing', because this is clearly not 'nothing'."

 This time the silence was mercifully shorter. "Professor Keys pulled me aside after lecture and offered me another chance to re-write my paper." Matt didn't know if he could feel like even more of a failure after the exchange with Professor Keys, but apparently he was wrong. Saying those words out loud definitely did.

"But...that's good right? I mean, Keys hardly gives second chances to anyone."

Matt gave a long sigh, one he clearly meant for Foggy to hear. "Forget it Foggy. You wouldn't understand. It might seem like a good thing to you but to me this just screams failure with a capital F. I'm- I'm a failure."

Foggy pulled his chair and sat next to Matt. So it _was_ about grades, after all. "Matt," he began, trying to ignore the sting when Matt said he wouldn't understand. "Contrary to what most people think, this whole thing with me being super positive didn't come naturally. It's a conscious choice that needs constant effort. It's not exactly easy to come from a background of hardware and cured meats and suddenly be thrown into cut throat competition in law school. So yes, I'm no stranger to failure and feelings of inadequacy. Is this..." Foggy took a deep breath as he told himself to just get what he wanted to say out since he was already knee-deep in this. He was worried about Matt, who seemed increasingly agitated as the course load steadily piled up since the start of their second year.

"Is this...do you think it might have something to do with your dad?"

Matt lifted his head and slowly tilted it towards Foggy's voice.

"You're hurting yourself, buddy. And I don't just mean on the outside. I think this whole thing you've got going on about excelling in school might be more about misplaced guilt over what happened to your dad, and you feeling obligated to do well because anything less would mean you're letting him down." Foggy knew there was a very real possibility of Matt getting pissed off or shutting him out, but screw it. He was willing to take that chance if it meant that he could help Matt realize what the root of his stress with school was really about.

Foggy's words stunned Matt. It was almost like he got punched in the chest. "Don't presume to know what I'm feeling, Foggy," he eventually gritted out. It was only a moment later that he realized his hands were balled into tight fists. He knew Foggy was only trying to help, but at the moment he just couldn't deal. With Foggy, with all the frustration, disappointment, with everything. He knew he'd hurt Foggy since all his friend was trying to do was help, and Matt felt bad about that, but it just added to the frustration. Matt was aware that he needed to learn to communicate better, but that was another problem for another day.

"I'm not. I'm sorry if I overstepped. You're my best friend and I care about you and I just don't want to see you hurt, that's all. Sorry." Nap was now the last thing on Foggy's mind. He grabbed his jacket and headed out.

Matt thought about what Foggy said. Deep down, he realized Foggy was right. But he didn't know how he was going to stop feeling like a failure when he couldn't meet the expectations he thought his dad would have.

The next week was filled with awkward silences and few, overly polite conversations about things like the weather. At first, Matt was relieved that Foggy didn't put in a request to switch rooms, then he allowed himself to feel a little more helpful that perhaps their friendship wasn't ruined when Foggy started making small talk. But then little care packages began appearing on Matt's desk. Fruits, bottled water, stress balls, and the occasional chocolate. Foggy even attached notes in braille that said things like "Don't forget to take a break, buddy". Damn it, now Matt _really_ felt bad. It took Matt another few days before he gathered the courage needed to talk to Foggy. To communicate.

"Hey, Foggy?" Matt asked tentatively after Foggy stepped out of the shower that night.

"Mmm, what's up?"

Matt shifted on his bed before pulling his knees up to his chest. His default position when he was feeling particularly vulnerable. Foggy had only seen Matt like this a couple times and they had always ended with Matt lying down, with his covers pulled completely over his head, mumbling something inaudible over and over. Foggy had tried intervening then, but Matt just ignored him. He was usually fine by the morning.

Foggy started to feel the early pricks of nervousness at the back of his neck. Whatever was going to happen next, Foggy would be damned if he was to be the latest cause of a cover-hiding, mumbling, burrito-ed Matt Murdock.

"I..." Matt rubbed the back of his neck. Apparently nerves were contagious and spread via necks now.

"I just wanted you to know that I've been thinking about what you said the other day. About- about dad." Matt was trying his best to resist the urge to dive under his covers.

"Listen, Matt. I'm sorry if what I said the other day upset you. That wasn't my intention." Foggy interjected.

Matt shook his head. "You were right, Foggy. And I ought to be the one apologizing, not you. I knew you were only trying to help."

Foggy blinked. "So...we're OK?"

"Only if you're OK with me," Matt said, his fingers picking at his covers, while his face did that hopeful-earnest-puppy thing that made Foggy want to cry.

"OK?! OK?! Matt, I'll never be just OK with you. You're my roomie! Roomies transcend OK status. Maverick and Goose, remember? Well, minus the dying part. I'm afraid you're stuck with me for life, buddy."

Matt smiled, lowing his knees from his chest. Foggy breathed an internal sigh of relief. Good. No Burrito Matt tonight. "You know," Foggy said softly. "I think a good way to make your dad proud and honor his memory would be to live the best life you can."

"Live my best life." Matt repeated. "How?"

"For starters, take care of yourself. _Treat yo' self_ , as some very wise people once said."

"You watch too much TV, Foggy."

"Pfft. That's one of the ways I treat myself."

"So... what you're suggesting is that I go for things that make me happy?"

"Whatever lifts your spirits, makes you a better person, et cetera. Go for it. Dream big, pal. You deserve that just as much as anyone else. Probably even more."

" So," Foggy continued, clapping his hands together. "I guess the big question right now would be, 'What does Matt Murdock want?'"

===

After Stick came into his life and subsequently left, Matt never really allowed himself to want things. It seemed frivolous and stupid. And it made him weak. At first he thought Stick was being harsh, but he soon saw the truth in his lessons. He wanted a father figure, and look where that got him. Right back at Saint Agnes with all the nuns who were nice, sure, but not enough to be a mother.

Over several months, Matt quickly learned to squash all those yearnings of wanting a family, wanting close friendships. He became so good at it that he eventually forgot what it was like to want things for himself. Sure, he had needs like food and clothes and the other stuff needed to function as a basic human, but that was about it. He trained and disciplined himself, dedicating whatever time and energy he had into sharpening his mind and body. When the other kids at the orphanage talked about the toys and families they wished they'd  get for Christmas, Matt just smiled and kept to himself as much as possible.

In a way, he pitied them, because he knew that most of their wishes and wants would never become a reality. Wanting things only led to disappointments, because "the world was a shitty bitch of a dump and self pity gets you nowhere," Stick had told him. Learning to deal without wants and desires probably saved him from plenty of letdowns, he reasoned.

===

Foggy's suggestion made sense to Matt. For all the good that Stick had done in his life, helping him to rise above his disability and grab life by its balls, he also broke him in many ways. Matt realized that he had to unlearn what Stick had drilled into him if he was to honor his dad by living a good life. A _happy_ life. Because misplaced guilt aside, Matt knew that for all the times his dad pushed him to hit the books, what his dad really wanted for him was to have a better life than he did. He knew his dad would be gutted if he turned into what Stick wanted him to be: a soldier- living for war, living for death.

But Foggy's suggestion also had him stumped. After so many years of not thinking about wants, he didn't know where to start. OK, maybe that was a lie. Over the past year, that familiar yearning had started to worm its way into Matt again. A yearning for friendship, for family.

So for the first time in a very, very long time, he chose not to squash it down. Maverick and Goose, right?

"Uh- I think I might know where to start with that," Matt mumbled, a bad habit of a nervous tic. Foggy almost had to strain to hear that.

"Great! Your wingman on the Great Matt Quest is at your service!" Foggy looked at him expectantly.

"I- I want the Maverick and Goose lifetime package. I don't - I don't want us to ever stop being friends." Matt felt weird saying that aloud. But it was a good kind of weird. He appreciated how Foggy helped him to see life differently, reminded him to stop looking at the ground and to look at the sky. Foggy was good for him, Matt knew that now.

Foggy tried his best to disguise his overwhelmed emotions in a chuckle. He wasn't expecting Matt to say anything remotely close to that. He wrangled his swelling chestful of emotions and got them in check. This was Matt's moment. Not his. He absolutely, positively, would not cry.

"That's the first thing you want on the quest to live your best life? Our friendship? I already told you, you're not getting rid of me that easily, buddy."

"Yeah, but I've- I've never said it out loud, I think. I really appreciate what we have. Y-You mean a lot to me. You're the closest thing I've got to a family," Matt scrunched up his nose and furrowed his brows. He hoped his words didn't come across as whimpy-weird. He'd totally underestimated how hard it was to be sincere.

"My, my! If I didn't know better, I'd think you were laying your smooth moves on me, Murdock!" Foggy hid another bout of overwhelmed emotions in his tease.

Matt laughed. "Come on, you know what I mean."

Earnest Matt Murdock was one of those things that stripped Foggy of all emotional defenses and left him feeling raw. "I know, buddy. And just so you know, I really appreciated that. And what we have." Screw wrangling his emotions. Foggy went right in for a bear hug.

Matt stiffened for a second before he leaned into the hug and reciprocated. Hugs. Hugs were nice too. Matt decided that he'd like more of that in the future.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but that back there sounded like I was just officially hailed as Matt Murdock's first best friend."

"You're not wrong."

"Wait, you're really telling me you've never had a best friend before?"

"Nope."

"Well, roomie. I'm gonna be the best damn friend you'll ever have."

"I don't doubt that."

"And don't you forget it!"

===

Over several errand runs, Foggy noticed that Matt often liked to detour to the kids' section. Foggy never minded, eternal kid at heart that he was. While they strolled past the aisles with Foggy excitedly pointing and describing whatever new toys he spotted that weren't there on their previous visits, he noticed that Matt liked to fiddle with random stuffed animals and those hard plastic dinosaur figurines.  He figured it might've had something to do with textures. So on one of his solo errand runs, Foggy bought a blue stuffed puppy on a whim.

"Er- Foggy?"

"Hmm?"

"What's this?" Matt had found the toy on his bed and was holding it up by one of its ears with his thumb and forefinger, as if afraid of the adorable little thing.

"Oh, I think you mean to ask _who_ is this? Why, this is Ruff, of course! He's blue, by the way. I mean the color, not the emotion."

"O-OK, but why is he on my bed?"

"No particular reason. Ruff just looked too cute not to take home. Plus, he kinda looks like you, when you go all puppy mode."

"I do not have a puppy mode, Foggy."

Foggy snorted. "You so do, Matt. It's especially obvious when you're anxious or upset. Or excited. Or happy. Or-"

"OK I get it."

"I think you could put "Part Time Puppy" in your resume when we apply for internships next year."

A corner of Matt's lips quirked up into a small half smile.

"So what am I supposed to do with Ruff?"

Foggy never thought he'd ever hear such a ridiculous question from a grown person. But then again, this wasn't any ordinary person. This was Matt. "Um- whatever you like?"

"OK," Matt said, but it sounded more like a question. "Thanks, Foggy. Ruff feels really soft and nice." He felt silly that he was the proud new owner of a stuffed puppy, but he couldn't stop touching it's soft fur either.

Foggy grinned. "I know. I've been watching you when we're at the toy aisle."

Matt, taken aback, had his mouth slightly open in surprise. "Elaborate?"

"You like to touch the stuffed animals and those dinosaur figurines. A lot."

Matt's cheeks flushed. He thought he had been discreet. "I do not," he frowned.

"You so do, buddy. But so what? It's perfectly normal." Foggy shrugged as he raised his hands, palms up.

"But that doesn't mean that I have to have it. It's- it's unnecessary."

"Yeah? Well, so is my collection of movie posters."

Matt paused. He knew where Foggy was coming from, and he really was working on accepting that it was OK to want things for himself, but it was hard to get Stick out of his head.

"I still feel like- me liking things, wanting things, makes me weak. I'm either setting myself up for disappointment, or I'll end up having more to lose. Also it seems greedy and selfish to want things I don't deserve." Matt begun to pull his knees towards his chest, but he hadn't let go of Ruff's ear.

Matt clearly wasn't talking about a stuffed animal anymore. "And what is it you think you deserve?" Foggy asked.

"Nothing much," Matt shrugged.

Foggy resisted the urge to pull Matt into his chest and make cooing noises. Matt hadn't shared much about his past so Foggy didn't pry, but whatever it was was obviously pretty bad. He sat at the edge of Matt's bed.

"Matt, you don't have to tell me whatever you're not ready to. But it's OK to want things for yourself. We're only human. We don't have to feel invulnerable all the time. If you like something, go for it, buddy.  And if anyone's gonna be all judgy about it, screw them." Foggy watched as Matt kept silent but tilted his head slightly. Good. He knew he was mulling his words over.

That night, Matt slept with Ruff tucked under one arm. Foggy saw that as progress and in that moment, made a silent promise that he was going to get Matt all the nice things his budget allowed.

===

Every few weeks, Foggy pried Matt away from his books and dragged him out for coffee (the good kind) and artisanal ice-cream (he noticed that Matt tended to stay away from most kind of snacks - something about "awful chemical smells", Matt once said).

Matt took a deep whiff of his yuzu sorbet and tried not to think about that one time Stick bought him ice cream. Things were different now. Stick wasn't Foggy, not by a mile. "Mmm. This is some really good stuff right here," he said after several mouthfuls.

"Have I ever known to be wrong, Murdock?" Foggy was almost done with his treat.

Matt smiled. "Thanks, Foggy. I think I needed this."

"I know." Foggy gave a thoughtful look at Matt. "You've been scratching again. I saw several scratch marks on your collarbone the other day; thought it was from one of your flirty escapades. Could've fooled me."

Matt shifted in his chair and tried to pull the collar of his shirt higher up his neck. "Foggy, I'm fine. Gotta learn to manage stress better. And I just find my shirts kinda itchy sometimes."

"We can go back and change, if you'd like. Or we could swing by some stores? It's the weekend, anyways. No weekend deserves to be spent indoors studying all day."

"No, that's OK. All my clothes feel like that. I've- ah- I've got sensitive skin. I've learned to ignore it most of the time, anyway. Same thing with my bed sheets. "

Foggy stared at Matt, incredulous look on his face in tow. He thought back to all the times he'd seen Matt scratching and getting all grouchy.

"I can feel you staring, Foggy, and it's disconcerting. Especially because I'm imagining the look on your face right now."

"Are you trying to tell me you've been living in, and sleeping on the equivalent of... of _sandpaper_ to your skin all these years?!" Foggy didn't bother with any jokes. This wasn't good.

"It's not that bad after a while. It's no big deal, Foggy." Matt started to pick at the rim of his sorbet cup, sad puppy eyes in full swing. He should've just kept quiet or made something up, because now Foggy was upset and he really, _really_ hated making his friend upset.

"No big-!" Foggy sputtered. That was it. "Matt. This is unacceptable. Come on, let's go."

"Go where?"

"Like you even need to ask. Shopping, Matt. We're going shopping."

"But I'm not done with my sorbet!"

"You can finish it while we walk, Matt."

Matt knew better than to object when Foggy was in mission mode. He was one heck of a determined Nelson and no one stood in the way of a Nelson when he or she had set their mind to something. Not if they knew what was good for them.

This was too much, really. Foggy refused to rein his Mother Hen instincts in. He couldn't believe Matt had put up with all that discomfort for years. He tried not to think of a tiny Matt Murdock in Saint Agnes, scratching and rolling on his bed, probably blinking away tears of frustration and irritation.

"How about this one? Feel good to you?" Foggy held up another pair of pants for Matt to touch.

"Yeah, much better than that previous one," Matt said.

"Alright, so that's four sets of clothes. Not nearly enough for a major wardrobe overhaul, but it's a start. What else do we need? Oh! Right. Bed sheets." Foggy let Matt to the bed linen section.

After feeling several different materials while Foggy described the various colors and patterns, Matt told him silk sheets felt the best to him. "OK then, do the navy and grey sets sound good to you?" Foggy asked.

Matt hesitated. The idea of him sleeping on silk seemed too indulgent he felt guilty. Also, he knew what Stick would say about soft things. He'd tolerated normal cotton sheets all these years, surely these weren't a necessity.

"What is it? You want a different color?"

"Colors are fine. I- Don't you think sleeping on silk sheets are a bit much, though?"

"For me? Probably, since I don't need them. But if they help you sleep better, then no, they're not."

"But...But doesn't it seem too extravagant?"

Foggy blew a raspberry. "Who cares? I know silk sheets may sound fancy and shit, but come on, Matt. If what I needed for a good night's rest was some diamond encrusted sheets you can bet your bottom dollar I wouldn't be embarrassed about it. You need some good rest, buddy."

Matt put the two sets of sheets into his basket without another word. Foggy nodded in approval.

_Screw Stick and all his 'soft things are gonna kill you' shit_ , Matt thought, as he walked out of the store with his new clothes and sheets.

===

"Hey Foggy, let's swing by the toy aisle," Matt was in a particularly good mood since he'd beat Marci at a debate earlier, his second in a row. He decided that he was going to buy those dinosaur figurines. Foggy couldn't stop beaming.

"You're gonna break your smile if you don't stop with all that cheer I'm assuming is happening on your face right now."

"And how would you know if I was smiling?"

"I had a feeling," Matt smirked.

"Hey Matt, you know what would be fun?"

"Hmm?"

"If a few of these critters accompanied you on your internship in the future. I can totally see them perched on your desk or something. _'Dinos at law!'_ " Foggy moved his hands to form an arch as if visualizing a grand idea.

Matt chuckled. "That sounds like a C-grade movie, Foggy."

"Heck yeah, and you know how much I love describing those to you." Foggy said.

===

Matt and Foggy had submitted their applications to several firms for their internship. It would be a good few weeks before they'd receive any word on the matter, so Foggy suggested going out for drinks. He needed a good distraction of the alcoholic variety to get his mind off Marci, after all. They were off, then back on, then off again. Probably for good this time. He really didn't want to cry-talk about her to Matt again. That one time was enough. Afterwards, he'd felt bad about unloading on poor guy because he seemed so out of his element, but Foggy couldn't stop himself from the emotional diarrhea that was coming out of his mouth in hiccups. Matt had rubbed his back awkwardly and nodded at everything Foggy said because he didn't know how else to react. At one point he even got up and made chamomile tea for Foggy, bless his soul.

Sure, Matt went on dates, but that was as far as he'd allowed things to go. Anything more felt too much for him, emotionally and physically. He didn't know how to be open without getting hurt, didn't know how to deal with the eventual crush of rejection when people left, and they were always bound to do so. Because no one stayed forever. Perhaps even Foggy, but he tried not to think about that since that was beyond his control. He couldn't force people to stay if they didn't want to.

On his end, Matt agreed on drinks with Foggy partly to shake off his recent re-obsession with Elektra ( _what was it about that girl?_ ) and partly because he knew about the break up. He'd heard the whole thing the night before, actually. But he couldn't let Foggy in on that knowledge without revealing his abilities so he'd kept silent. Before Foggy entered their room that night, he quickly plopped Ruff down on Foggy's bed.

"Why's Ruff on my bed, Matt?"

Matt gave a small smile and shrugged. "No reason. Ruff just said he missed cuddling with you."

"Huh. OK then, no one should ever be deprived of the world famous Nelson cuddle." His brave attempt at a joke was pretty transparent and hollow, and Matt heard it. But he'd also heard the way Foggy hugged Ruff gratefully in bed as if the stuffed animal were a lifeline.

Five drinks in and Matt had had enough. His radar sense was dulled and everything seemed off by two inches. Foggy, on the other hand, seemed ready to plow through another five. He went on about something along the lines of "liberation and the pursuit of libations" while Matt was in constant fits of giggles and clung to his arm. It appeared that alcohol had been a successful solution for the both of them.

They walked out of the bar arm in arm, until Foggy decided to walk the next ten feet in Matt's shoes, complete with cane. "Watch out, everybody! I'm Blind Matt Murdock!"

Matt laughed, he couldn't help himself. "Most... Most people just say, "Matt Murdock.""

As they half stumbled, half shuffled back into campus, Foggy talked about how they were going to be fine, upstanding members of the legal profession but really, el grande avocados sounded much better, while Matt teased Foggy about his Punjabi skills (or lack thereof). They sat down on a flight of stairs, taking in the fresh night air.

"Hey, do you get the spins?" Matt smiled, a little too buzzed to answer immediately.

"Can you get those if you can't see?" Foggy continued.

"Yeah, I get the spins." Matt said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's an equilibrium thing, it's not your eyes." As Matt elaborated, he almost slipped and told Foggy about his senses. Almost.

The conversation segued to Jack Murdock. Matt reckoned there wouldn't be a day where he'd ever stop feeling an ache whenever he thought about his dad.

"He'd be proud of you, buddy." Foggy decided to lighten the mood by talking about his mother's butcher ambition for him. Matt laughed and Foggy couldn't help but go along with him. Happy Matt was his favorite thing in the world, second only to Grandma Nelson's pumpkin pie.

_'Franklin Nelson for the defense, Your Honor.'_ sounded really good when Matt said it aloud. Foggy looked forward to the day when they'd get swanky offices of their own with ridiculously shaped furniture that looked better than they felt.

"Murdock and Nelson, attorneys at law!" Foggy grandly declared.

Matt always assumed he'd fight for the rights of the disadvantaged at a human rights organization or something along those lines, so he found himself pleasantly surprised when he heard what Foggy said. The possibility of starting his own firm didn't even occur to him until Foggy said it aloud. Now that he did though, it was like a dream he never knew he wanted until that moment.

"Nelson and Murdock. Sounds better." He chimed in.

"You think?" The cheery hope in Foggy's voice made Matt's heart beat a tad faster. Foggy made anything sound possible. If he could see Foggy's face, he guessed it would've been filled with childlike hope, the kind unbowed and unbroken by the world's cynicism. The kind that only Foggy was capable of.

"Yeah, trust me." Matt slept right through that night, gliding in and out of dreams about avocados in suits and an office with a sign that proudly read " _Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law_ ".

"Hey F-Foggy? Did you really mean what you said last night?" Matt asked the next morning over his cereal.

"Gotta be specific, pal. I say a lot of things. I say even more when I'm buzzed. I definitely said plenty last night."

"Nelson and Murdock. Attorneys at law. Did- did you mean that? Would you really like to start a firm with me in the future?" Matt fiddled with his spoon, his actions once again betraying his nerves.

Foggy noticed the familiar tic. It killed him to see Matt- his incredibly smart, compassionate and sweet best friend think so little of himself. If there was anything he wanted at that moment, it would've been a TARDIS so that he could go back to Matt's childhood and fix every little thing that broke him. He looked Matt straight in the eye even though he knew the effect would be lost on him. "Dude, have you seen yourself? Ok wait- don't answer that. What I mean to say is this: you are an insanely intelligent and talented individual, Matt Murdock. It would be _anyone's_ dream to work with you. Seriously."

Matt listened; he really listened. Foggy wasn't lying, so Matt felt bad for doubting him. "You really meant that," he said, a statement more than a question.

Foggy raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever known me to be anything but a pinnacle of truth, Murdock?"

"You're not afraid that I might drag you down?"

"What the hell does that even mean?"

"I just-"

"Quit selling yourself short, Matt. You know, I'm starting to think that maybe it's you who's afraid that I might slow you down or hold you back or whatever."

"No! No. Foggy, I'm not. And you won't. I- I would never think of that. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression."

Foggy laughed. "You see how that felt?"

Point taken. Foggy was just messing with him; he got that. Matt nodded.

"So why would you even ask me that in the first place?" Foggy asked.

"I...ah. I've never let myself dream of wanting something so big before. This- This feels new. And terrifying." Matt scratched the back of his head.

"Why?"

"I never thought I'd have the opportunity to have such a future for myself, so I didn't let myself dream", Matt shrugged as he drew circles in the milk with his spoon. He'd always assumed that his future would involve whatever bleak war Stick always mentioned (figuratively or literally he still wasn't sure), so he never bothered with things like ambition outside of making himself strong and fulfilling his dad's wishes.

Foggy made a noise that Matt thought sounded like a dying mouse.

"Matt Murdock, you listen here and listen good: You deserve to dream and want anything you desire. You deserve it. And now, because my poor heart can't stop this hurt fest that is happening inside me, I am going to give you a hug."

Matt laughed. "OK." Foggy hugged Matt tight. He hoped the pressure of the hug would translate whatever his words couldn't.

Matt held on to Foggy. As he felt Foggy's heart thumping straight into his own chest, he closed his eyes and made a wish. One that saw them being the best damn lawyers in Hell's Kitchen.

===

The day Matt and Foggy passed the bar, Matt was so elated he thought his heart was going to explode. He did it. He finally did it. Jack Murdock would've been so proud of him. _This is all for you, dad, I owe it all to you. I wish you could've been here,_ Matt thought.

That night, Foggy handed him a wrapped package. Matt shook it gently.  He bit his lip, smiled, and willed to not let his excitement get the better of him. "Well? Open it!" Foggy was positively bouncing.

Matt carefully opened his gift. His breath caught when he felt around and realized what the gift was. "Foggy. This must've cost a bomb! You didn't have to do this."

"I know. But I wanted to. I just felt like nothing screams "we're officially lawyers, baby!" louder than a nice suit. You're gonna look mighty fine when you wear that to L&Z, Murdock. And be warned, this thing is probably a chick magnet, too."

Matt laughed. "Come here," he said, reaching out for Foggy. He didn't let up on the hug even when Foggy feigned a cough and a "you're chocking me!". Matt had no idea what he did to deserve someone like Foggy.

"I got you something too. It's not much, but-" Matt reached into his drawer and took Foggy's gift out. He'd folded a coffee cup sleeve from one of their coffee breaks into an origami crane. "Here. Just wanted to say thanks for never giving up on me, and bringing levity into my life. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." The previous time he gave something he'd made with his own hands was to Stick, and that memory still left an ugly scar. _But this was Foggy; this time things would be different_ , he told himself.

Foggy took the crane from Matt with a soft thanks, his eyes glazed over with tears that threatened to spill over. He didn't think any words would be able to verbalize the fact that he needed Matt as much as Matt needed him, so another hug it was.

===

Matt grimaced as he gripped the door handle of Josie's and pushed the door open. His fingers still ached from that confrontation, the one with the little girl's disgusting excuse of a father. He was glad that he had rid the city of one more piece of filth, and he welcomed the peaceful sleep that came with it. But the crushing guilt almost cancelled everything out. He knew his dad would be disappointed that he'd used his fists, it didn't matter that he was using them to make his city a better place. The devil within was relentless as well; whatever control he had over it was slipping day by day. He was losing his ability to suppress it and it was getting near impossible to ignore the agony that seethed  from the streets every night. Things weren't going to get any easier, that was the only thing he knew for sure.

"Hey Matt! Over here!" Foggy called out above the music and waved. He knew Matt couldn't see it, but meh, old habits die hard.

"Holy shit, what happened to your face?" Foggy inhaled sharply after Matt took his seat next to him. Matt had a blooming black eye under his glasses and a split lip. He stiffened at Foggy's question. Telling Foggy the truth wasn't an option, not at this point, at least. He couldn't risk losing his best friend.

"Oh, it's nothing. I was taking out my trash when I tripped over someone else's trash. Apparently some people still need lessons on proper garbage disposal. I'm fine though, really," he fibbed. He hoped lying to Foggy would get easier as time went on. He hated lying, but told himself it was a necessary evil he was just going to have to deal with. Both Foggy and Josie commented otherwise but he shrugged it off. He winced and made a face when he took a drink, though. Pain seared when his lips touched the alcohol. He promised Foggy that he'd be more careful in the future.

"Done! Run your feelers over this little beauty." Foggy handed him the napkin he had been drawing on. Matt had an idea about what was on it but he waited for Foggy to continue. "Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys At Law." It was a rectangular sign with their names proudly bolded. Foggy confirmed his guess.

"You, uh... You really want to do this?" This was it. His dream- _their_ dream, was going to be a reality very soon. He didn't understand how exhilaration and doubt could both be coursing through him at the same time. After they'd left Landman and Zack the two of them had talked in more detail about Nelson an Murdock, but this, the napkin, made their plans feel even more concrete.

"No, I'm pissing my pants. There is actual urine in my trousers. But I trust you. You think this is what we should be doing... then I'm with you. For better or worse."

A lump formed in Matts throat. Foggy placed his trust in him. Foggy was coming along for the ride. Failing Foggy was not an option, not now, not ever. He swallowed the lump and laughed. "Sounds like we're getting married." Foggy proceeded to list out how setting up Nelson and Murdock was going to be way more than that. They were going to share their thoughts, dreams, bills, crushing debt... There was that word again. Dreams. Foggy had told him, not too long ago, that he deserved to dream about anything he wanted, and look at him now. They were going to share their dreams. This was really going to happen.

"There is no one I'd rather be doing this with, buddy. Seriously." He hoped Foggy could hear the sincerity in his voice.

"Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law." Foggy clinked his glass with Matt's. Once again, Foggy credited his Fogtuition for that deep gut feeling that Nelson and Murdock was going to be awesome, for lack of a better word. If Matt hadn't convinced Foggy that Landman and Zack wasn't for them, Nelson and Murdoch would never have happened. For that, Foggy would be forever grateful to Matt.

"Nelson and Murdock," Matt repeated. They knocked their glasses together, spilling some of its contents on the napkin. Matt chuckled. He knew he still had a long way to go on his quest to live his best life and make his dad proud, but he wasn't that scared anymore, not as much as he was back at Columbia. He wasn't scared because he knew that the future, murky as it seemed, would be OK. Because Foggy would be by his side, every step of the way. For better or worse.

**Author's Note:**

> If this seemed like virgin fic writing, congratulations! you're not wrong :)
> 
> My intention was to weave in several bits from the show into the fic, building on ideas like Matt's propensity for making beautiful things out of whatever he collects from his ice cream and coffee breaks, and giving an origin to things like Matt's description of cotton sheets on his skin (thanks, Foggy!).


End file.
